Open
by clandestin273
Summary: Blackwall strikes an unlikely bond with a bartender at the tavern in Skyhold. Total unabashed fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Couldn't wait for Inquisition and decided to write a short fluffy series about the handsome Blackwall and an OC. Obviously we won't know what the character's really like for another 9 days but this is my current interpretation. I decided not to include the Inquisitor because I felt like taking a break from rough and tumble ladies for a bit. Expect a part two within a few days! Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

><p>"Who's he?" Rinn murmured.<p>

A man soaking wet from the storm outside stepped into Skyhold's tavern with a grimace on his face. As he lowered the hood of his cloak, water dripped onto his hard face and dark beard. His heavy armor was silver and gleaming under the tavern's candlelight.

"Someone in the Inquisition," Layla replied. "Forgot his name, but he seems nice enough."

Rinn eyed him as she cleaned glasses behind the bar. He didn't look very nice. In fact, he looked a bit scary.

His skin was rough with scars and he looked even more gargantuan as he removed his blue cloak. The man was imposing to say the least. And heading her way.

"I've got to go make sure my stew's not overflowing. Can you man the bar?" Layla asked. The older woman was already halfway to the kitchen before Rinn even had a chance to reply.

By then the man was taking a seat by the bar. He removed his heavy gauntlets and placed them in front of him with a low, tired sigh.

"Can I help you?" Rinn asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

To her surprise, his mouth moved into a warm smile under his thick beard. "Hello, lass. I'll take an ale and whatever's cooking back there."

His smile put her at ease and she found herself returning the gesture. She'd apparently judged too quickly. "It's Layla's stew of the day."

"Any good?" The man asked.

Rinn looked behind her to make sure the tavern owner wasn't there. "I'd try the chicken instead," she whispered.

The man chuckled. His amber eyes twinkled with warmth, making his face look almost youthful. "Alright, I'll have an ale and a plate of chicken."

Rinn grinned and grabbed one of the glasses she'd just scrubbed clean. "We've got an order for chicken!" She called back to Layla as she filled his glass.

"Is it just the two of you working?" He asked as she set it down in front of him. He took a long swig, closing his eyes as he drained half the glass. Rinn smirked at the tiny bubbles leftover in his mustache. He grinned and wiped them with a napkin.

"Just us," she answered. "It's been a slow night. But I see the Inquisition's been working hard despite the weather." She gestured to his rainy gear.

"I wouldn't say hard," he chuckled. "Just training some new recruits. They were working harder than I was."

Rinn leaned back on the wall next to the door to the kitchen. "You look quite tough, ser. I was expecting to hear you were out slaying dragons," she teased.

"I'm afraid I'm hardly imposing against this miserable weather. The dragons will have to wait," he laughed. "I don't believe I've seen you around. My name is Blackwall."

"Rinn," she replied. She took his outstretched hand in hers and shook it. It was scarred with callouses but was warm and soft as it enveloped hers. "I'm new here. Just started last week," she explained.

"I'm new here as well. It seems to take getting used to," he said.

Rinn laughed. "I'll say. One night a qunari is challenging everyone in sight to an arm wrestle, the next a spirit is stealing our silverware. I've never worked anywhere quite like this before. But the world is changing."

"Aye," he agreed. "Never know what chaos you're going to wake up to these days. I hope you were gentle on the qunari. He's soft."

Rinn laughed and opened her mouth to reply but Layla was back with a steaming plate of chicken. "Here is your meal, ser. Rinn, you can go on home, hon. This place is gonna to be dead tonight thanks to that blasted rain."

Rinn almost pouted. She actually didn't want to conversation with her new friend to end. He was the most interesting person to come in all day. She took off her apron and smiled. "Well, enjoy your meal, ser Blackwall. I expect I'll see you around."

"I hope so. The chicken is lovely, by the way." She glanced at him just in time to catch his wink as Layla tried to talk him into trying her stew.

.

.

.

Blackwall was sharpening his sword in the yard when he saw a familiar figure heading his way.

"Hello ser Blackwall!" The girl called.

It was the woman who had attended to him at the tavern the other night. Cute little thing, all big grins and thick red hair.

"Just Blackwall to you, miss. Off to work?" He noticed the apron in her hands.

"You know it. The people need their inebriations," she grinned. "What wild adventures are you up to today? Training more troops?"

"No, finally getting to some real action. Templars and mages have been going at it in the Hinterlands. We're going to try to put a stop to it. Demons are falling from the sky and we're all still too busy fighting each other." He shook his head.

Rinn sighed. "It's so terrible. I'm glad we've got a nice mix of people here at Skyhold…mages, templars, dwarves, elves…I hear they've even got a Grey Warden!"

He smiled. For a moment he considered telling her but quickly decided against it. Why complicate things? "Is that so?"

"That's what I hear anyway. I wonder if he knows the Hero of Fereldan," she murmured. "You know, I saw her once."

As much as he'd heard about the Warden Commander, he'd never seen her in person. "What was she like?" he asked.

"Oh I didn't get to talk to her," Rinn sighed. "She only visited Gwaren once with the new King after the Blight. Everyone back home liked Loghain—he was a fair enough Teryn, even if he was…well, a bit of a paranoid maniac. All the people of Gwaren acted as if they were dreading the visit, complaining about how much better Loghain was and blah blah blah." She rolled her eyes. "So I thought I'd get to be one of the ones to meet the Hero and the King. But of course when they actually came through the village everyone was tripping all over themselves to welcome them. I was in the back of the crowd. Just barely got to see the back of her head," Rinn sighed.

"Funny how that works. One minute the nation's shunning the Wardens, the next they're heroes," he snorted. "If these breaches drive her up to Skyhold I'll be glad to give you a boost over the crowd."

A smile brightened her face. "Hopefully it won't come to that, but you know I'd appreciate the help. Oh Maker, I'm late for work," she exclaimed. "Have fun breaking up ancient rivalries!"

Blackwall chuckled as she jogged off toward the tavern.

.

.

.

Rinn glared as Blackwall took his usual seat at the bar.

"Evening," he said but was looking at her with his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Evening, ser _Warden_," she replied, folding her arms across her chest. "Last night, Bull and Sera were on the floor laughing when I said I was disappointed I still hadn't met the Grey Warden." Rinn scowled. She had beginning to think the man abstained from drink until her rowdiest patrons pointed out he was right under her nose the whole time.

Blackwall at least had the grace to look embarrassed. "I can imagine."

Rinn snorted as she grabbed a mug and filled it with ale. She slid it none too gently at him across the bar. "Isn't a couple weeks a bit long to keep a practical joke going?"

"I apologize," he said. "I didn't mean it as a joke or to cause you harm. I just…didn't want to tell you yet. It's not a lifestyle many understand. Even after the Blight, Wardens are still looked at with distrust in some parts of Fereldan." His dark eyes were filled with regret.

Rinn softened and uncrossed her arms. She couldn't play sad for very long, especially not with her favorite customer. "Well, _I _trust you. You did get rid of that tiny little darkspawn problem a few years back," she grinned. "But really, Blackwall. The Wardens are so fascinating! I wish you'd told me sooner. I read Brother Genetivi's whole series on them. You're part of something seriously amazing."

Rinn didn't mention that she herself had yearned for a life of travel and adventure after reading Genetivi's books. She already felt like a bit of a star-struck fool. Her cheeks blushed pink. "I mean, you still owe me for lying though."

Blackwall laughed, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. "I'll find something to make it up to you."

.

.

.

"Are those for me?" Dorian asked, wagging his eyebrows at the flowers in Blackwall's hands.

Blackwall groaned. He knew he should have taken a detour instead of walking through the bloody mess hall.

"Course not!" Sera laughed. "They're for Bull. Matches his eyes."

The qunari shook with laughter but his eyes studied Blackwall knowingly. "They're for that pretty tavern girl, aren't they, Blackwall? I was starting to think you had a drinking problem til I saw who you were talking to every night. Then I realized you've got another sort of problem. I get it though. Redheads, right?"

Blackwall was grateful his beard covered the blush rushing to his cheeks. He suddenly felt foolish. What was an old man like him doing trying to impress a woman like her? She didn't know the rush of running into battle or what it felt like to strike a man down. A bright young thing like her would probably shudder away from his battle scars. Not to mention his past. He didn't even want to think about it. If he really wanted to help her should toss the damn flowers away and send Cullen her way. She needed some young knight, not an old grizzly like him hanging around the bar all day.

"The only problem I have is seeing your ugly mug everyday," Blackwall rumbled with a smile. Sera and Dorian howled with laughter. "I'm just being a kind patron, unlike you lot."

Leliana looked up from where she was reading and smiled coyly. "She'll love them, Blackwall. I've seen the way she looks at you," the spy said quietly. "They're just jealous."

A small smile touched the man's lips. Well, maybe there was some hope after all.

.

.

.

Rinn carefully closed the cottage door behind her as she crept inside. Her father had undoubtedly been asleep for hours. When he was asked to take his blacksmith trade to the inquisition at Skyhold he'd known it would be long and tiring work. Between his working during the day and her working at night, she didn't see him much as of late, but she at least tried to let him get a good night's rest when she got back from her late shifts.

And a late shift it had been. Although she stayed even later to have a drink with Blackwall and Cassandra.

Much like Blackwall, Cassandra intimidated her at first. But the woman was always courteous and respectful. Not like some of the local townspeople who barked orders at her all day. The woman even smiled and laughed when she and Blackwall began comparing battle stories.

As for Blackwall...she gazed down at the bundle of Andraste's Grace in her hand and let out a long wistful sigh. The girl quickly crept upstairs and let herself lean against her bedroom door. Rinn sunk down onto her bottom, a grin on her face.

She hadn't really meant it when she said he owed her for omitting he was a Grey Warden. But in typical polite Blackwall fashion, he'd done it anyway.

She never thought she'd have a Grey Warden for a friend. In her books they seemed so stern and severe, but Blackwall was nothing like that. There was a certain loneliness in the way he stared at the fire when he thought no one was looking, but he was almost always thundering with laughter or sharing stories.

Rinn imagined him sneaking out into the garden after training in the yard, looking over his shoulder as he picked flowers in his massive iron gauntlets. She couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled at her lips.

"Rinn?" Her father's yawn traveled easily through the thin walls of their small home.

Rinn bit her lip to still her smile. "Sorry, father!" she whispered.

When she calmed down she set down the flowers on the small bureau next to her bed and considered the gift. Was it a symbol of their friendship? Or merely a polite gesture?

Rinn kicked off her boots and crawled into bed, too tired to change out of her work clothes. Was it _romantic? _Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought.

He was older, yes, but certainly closer to her age than her father's. Besides, she'd watched him train through the window during a slow afternoon and he was stronger than most, if not all, the soldiers in their prime. And he was _handsome_. Though she wasn't sure he realized it.

Rinn let out a content sigh. She was probably just imagining it was romantic, but a girl could dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this took forever! I got the game and have been playing it nonstop. I edited this to reflect Blackwall more now that I've actually played, but I made sure not to add spoilers that might ruin things for people who haven't gotten to major stuff yet. Hope you like it! Just wanted to get a quick story out of my head, so this is the final chapter.

* * *

><p>Blackwall spotted her from across the courtyard, walking at a snails pace as she simultaneously turned the page of her book. Her eyes lit up as they skimmed the page and a smile twitched at her lips. She was almost oblivious to one of the servant boys toting a pile of firewood towards Skyhold, and had to apologize as he quickly sidestepped to avoid running into her.<p>

"Time crept to a standstill as he watched her with a smile on his lips and a distinct look of longing in his eyes."

Blackwall blinked and glared down at Varric. He'd forgotten they were talking. The dwarf only grinned and continued. "The tired warrior felt rejuvenated just looking at her. Perhaps there was fight in his old bones yet. He vowed that when his journey was complete he would approach her, ready to finally—"

"That's enough," Blackwall muttered. "Did the Champion appreciate your constant narrating, Varric?"

The dwarf chuckled. "She hated it. Word's still out on the inquisitor."

Blackwall glanced over at Rinn. She'd tucked the book away and was heading into the tavern. "I need to attend to something. Do me a favor and tell the others to wait up?"

"Right," Varric laughed. "Take your time, Warden."

Rinn nearly spilled the drink she was pouring when Blackwall entered the tavern.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she grinned. "I haven't seen you in days, Blackwall."

The other barkeep Layla rolled her eyes and headed upstairs with a tray of drinks.

He chuckled anxiously. "I've been, ah, busy."

"Busy doing what?" she asked, leaning over the bar.

Her white blouse wasn't particularly revealing but when she leaned forward it didn't leave much to the imagination. Blackwall's cheeks burned at the sight.

"Uh, you know. Inquisition things," he mumbled. He coughed awkwardly and dragged his gaze away, letting it land on the cover of the book resting on the bar._ Adventures of the Black Fox._ He picked it up and flipped through a few pages, eyes not truly taking any of it in.

"Oh! Have you read that one? Josephine lent it to me and I can't put it down. It certainly makes my life seem particularly dull in comparison," she laughed.

Blackwall gazed back at her. Thankfully she was standing straighter, her shirt collar back in place. "Are you unhappy?"

They'd talked about her past in Gwaren and her time during the Blight, but she always ended up changing the subject to ask Blackwall about his own adventures. He would have preferred to hear more about her, but he never pushed her. Besides, he enjoyed watching her gasp and grin at his stories far more than he would ever admit.

Rinn shook her head quickly. "No, no. I love it here. It's far more interesting than Gwaren. Everyone has such great stories to tell and…everyone here is so friendly, and considerate, and sweet…"

Was he imagining the way her gaze lingered on him? Blackwall cleared his throat.

Rinn bit her lip. "Sorry, I trailed off…I just wish I could have had a few adventures of my own. I wanted to go to Orlais and Antiva; to climb a mountain and sail on the sea. When my mother died I had no choice but to stay and look after my father." She stopped herself and covered her face with her hands. "Maker, I'm sorry. I must sound so selfish to you, Blackwall," she groaned through her fingers.

Blackwall removed his gauntlets so as not to hurt her and gently took her hands in his. He hadn't touched her since that first day when they shook hands. Now his hands blanketed hers in a warm embrace, thumbs smoothing gently over her knuckles.

"You're young. You have plenty of time to go on adventures. When I return we could climb a mountain together, if you'd like. Or maybe head down to the Waking Sea."

Rinn frowned. "When you return?"

Blackwall nodded sadly. "The Inquisitor needs my assistance in Orlais. I'm afraid we will be gone for at least a week."

"A _week?_" Rinn exclaimed. "Ah, I mean…that's quite a long time. Who will keep me company during these long nights?"

He knew she meant during her shifts at the tavern, but his mind wandered to other things. Blackwall's face suddenly felt hot again.

"I…" he struggled to find words. Instead he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek.

He feared she would shudder or flinch away from his rough calloused hands but instead she leaned into his touch, letting her eyes drift close for a moment.

"I'll miss you too," she murmured, saying the words he couldn't.

"I hate to be the one to interrupt your moment, Warden, but we've got to go. Val Royeaux is waiting to be...well, inquisitioned," Varric said at the door of the tavern.

Blackwall cursed under his breath, making Rinn smile.

"I'll see you soon," he promised.

.

.

.

It was a chaotic day at the tavern and Rinn couldn't seem to keep it together. She'd already messed up two orders and had nearly spilled wine on Madame de Fer.

_Now _that _would not have gone over well, _she shuddered.

Not to mention that strange boy had nearly scared her half to death when she found him in the kitchen stealing knives again. Rinn would need to talk to the Inquisitor soon. She kept putting it off and forgetting about it.

Rinn sighed, busying herself with putting clean glasses away. Blackwall was due to come back today. She was supposed to be floating on top of the world, but instead her stomach was in knots.

"What's going on with you, girlie?" Layla asked in that gentle, yet assertive way of hers. "Nervous about the return of your warden?" she teased.

"He's hardly _my_ warden," Rinn laughed, but the thought made her heart soar. "I'm just anxious. Something feels wrong."

No sooner had the words left her lips did the door to the tavern swing open so forcefully that it hit the adjacent wall.

"Maker's breath," Layla started but was silenced by the young soldier who stormed into the tavern.

"Vivienne!" he called. "Your aid is needed. A man has been hurt."

The mage set her wineglass down and glided from her seat by the window. "Speak. Is it a soldier? Where is he?"

The boy shook his head. As if suddenly realizing who he was talking to, he looked much paler. "No m-Madame. It is the Grey Warden. The Inquisitor's party was ambushed by ogres on the path back from Val Royeaux. He's been taken to the infirmary. They're not sure he'll make it."

Rinn didn't hesitate. The glass she was holding dropped and shattered at her feet as she raced past them and out the door. Rinn kicked up dirt as she sprinted past the training yard and the merchants, ignoring the questioning looks of workers and soldiers as she passed. It was only when she was in the massive hold that she realized she had no idea where the infirmary even was. She'd only been inside a handful of times to use the library and talk with Josephine.

Rinn stood in the massive great hall, eying the different doors and staircases with apprehension.

"Damn it!" she cried. She headed for the closest door when a rush of footsteps filled her ears.

"You're going the wrong way!" A soft Orlesian voice called. Rinn looked up at Leliana, the Inquisition's spymaster as the woman descended a huge stone staircase. Rinn had never personally interacted with the woman, but she'd seen her about. Apparently the woman knew a great deal more about her. _Well, she _is _a spy. _"He's in the infirmary, up here."

Rinn didn't have time for pleasantries. "Thank you," she breathed as she pounded up the stairs past the hooded woman.

_Hold on, Blackwall._

_._

_._

_._

Blackwall woke to the sound of hushed voices and a throbbing pain in his head. When the ogre grabbed him, he'd said his final prayers for forgiveness, expecting to die in its clutches. The Maker seemed to have other plans.

He opened his eyes to a small group of concerned faces. His eyes however, landed on only one.

"You're awake," Rinn breathed. She was kneeling at his bedside clutching his hand. A wide relieved smile appeared at her lips.

"Am I?" He murmured, rubbing his thumb in a smooth motion over her cool fingers. He made to sit up but winced as pain lanced through his side. Rinn looked concerned but Blackwall gave her a tight smile. Pain was good. It meant this was real.

"I hope you did not think we would let you get out of serving the Inquisition that easily, Blackwall," Cassadra teased, a rare smile on her lips.

"Just trying to make things interesting," he chuckled. "Are the Inquisitor and the others alright as well?"

"They're fine," Vivienne said. "I instructed everyone to go downstairs and give you space. As you can see, not everyone obeyed." Vivienne's words were sharp but her eyes soft as she glanced at the young woman holding his hand. "Your ribs are cracked but the gash in your head is healed. With more healing you will be back on your feet soon, Warden. For now, rest."

Blackwall waited until Vivienne and Cassandra had exited the infirmary before cupping Rinn's chin in his fingers. It hurt to raise his arm but it was worth it.

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a couple hours," she said shyly, looking down. "I was worried about you."

Her whisper reverberated through his body. He hadn't known what it was to be missed in years. Didn't think he would again. "Thank you for keeping an old man company," he murmured.

"You may have some years on me but you're hardly old, Blackwall. An old man couldn't have held off two ogres."

"Ah, but a few years ago I wouldn't have gotten myself shattered by one," he chuckled. He reluctantly moved his hand away from her face and patted the side of his bed. "Come up off the floor, lass."

She obliged, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed and letting her eyes roam to his bare, bandaged abdomen.

He was suddenly self-conscious. He was not like Iron Bull, strutting about in only his trousers everyday. Blackwall joked that it was because he was no peacock or show pony, but the truth was he was a bit old fashioned.

Surprisingly, Rinn reached out and ran her fingers softly down his chest. Blackwall nearly groaned at the touch.

"Is this okay? You're not in pain?" She whispered.

Far from it. In fact, the feel of her fingers running over the wide expanse of his chest made him forget about the throbbing soreness of his body, replacing it with a dull ache. Maker, he wanted her.

"No, I—I'm well," he said hoarsely.

Rinn brushed over a thin white scar close to the hollow of his throat. "What's this one from?"

"A bandit. His group thought they'd take advantage of a lone man. They were wrong," he chuckled, chest rumbling under her fingers.

"And this one?" Her fingers traced a wide red patch of flesh on his side.

"A rage demon. Bastard burned me good. Ruined my favorite armor too."

"And this?" She'd moved down to his arms now.

Blackwall considered it for a moment. "Hmm. Can't seem to remember. I've got more than I can count now."

Now it was her turn to chuckle. "Well, I'm sure whoever gave it to you quickly regretted it."

Blackwall grinned. "I don't doubt it, dear."

Rinn leaned closer and cupped his face in her hands, as he had her nearly two weeks ago. "I missed you," she sighed. "Did you miss me?"

"Every day."

.

.

.

"This is…more challenging than I thought it would be," Rinn panted.

"Don't tell me you want to stop now," Blackwall laughed. "You're the one who suggested it."

She looked up ahead at him as they climbed the steep mountain path and let out a low sigh. He'd only been out of the infirmary for a week and he was making his way up the mountain at an alarming pace. If she weren't so determined to keep up she would have turned around ages ago.

As they made it to the top of the mountain however, Rinn's heart still in her chest.

"Maker," she mumbled. The view was amazing. Skyhold and all it's glory stood far below, surrounded by enormous snowy white mountains and endless sky. It was enough to make her forget about her sore feet and the cold nipping at her nose.

Blackwall smiled down at her. "Wasn't it worth it?"

"Yes," she breathed. "We need to go on adventures more often."

"Anytime." He curled his gloved hand around hers.

Rinn bit her lip. Since he'd returned from Orlais they'd shared soft gentle touches: pat on the shoulder; the squeeze of a hand; a light caress. It was sweet but safe.

Had she imagined the heat in his eyes when he'd stroked her cheek before leaving for Orlais? Was she the only one who felt fire in her heart when she ran her hands over his chest? _Maybe he's not sure I feel the same way_, she thought. Her lips curled into a frown. _Or maybe he thinks I'm too naïve. _

Only one way too find out.

Rinn plopped down onto the snowy mountaintop and dragged Blackwall down with her. They both new he was strong enough to stay standing, but he let himself grin and fall with her.

"Blackwall," she said with determination.

He raised a thick eyebrow in question.

"Do you…" Her cheeks were turning pink just thinking the words. He waited, brows still raised. Rinn summoned her courage. "Do you want me?"

"D-do I _what_?"

Maker, he looked so astonished. Did he have no idea what he did to her? Rinn sighed. Of course. He only saw her as a kindly barmaid, a treasured _friend. _She'd mixed all the signs. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, but this time it pained her.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered. "Forget I said anything. It was foolish of me to presume—"

She moved to stand but Blackwall caught her hand. "This is wrong. I…I'm not what you want. I could never be what you deserve."

Rinn couldn't breathe. She didn't understand. Her hands trembled as she took his hand in hers. "How can you believe that? There's nothing wrong in the way I feel about you. How...how I've felt about you since the day we met."

Only as she said the words did she realize it was true. He appeared so gruff at first, almost frightening. But the minute she spoke to him she knew she'd been wrong, and she couldn't stay away.

Rinn watched his resolve crumble before her as his free hand traced her face, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. "Maker knows I've tried, but I can't deny how I feel about you. I want you, Rinn. More than anything in this damn world."

The kiss was tender at first, his lips softly moving against hers. But as Blackwall's strong hands traced her back, Rinn melted against him, moving her hands over his broad shoulders to pull him closer. The move threw off their balance and he slipped, pinning her against the cold snowy ground.

Blackwall pulled away with a curse. "Now I've done it. You must be freezing."

Rinn laughed and pulled him back down by the collar of his coat. "Warm me up."

The man's eyes twinkled as he grinned. "Gladly."


End file.
